


the keystone

by Fxckxxp



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, POV Martino Rametta, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 22:06:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16585115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fxckxxp/pseuds/Fxckxxp
Summary: Niccolò does a silly, thoughtful thing. Marti's heart melts. Just like every other day.





	the keystone

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo this is short but I couldn't get it out of my head. Hope you enjoy ❤️

“Why do you do that?” Marti sighs, laced with a laugh. Too fond to be annoyed. It’s the fourth time now on their walk to Nico’s home that Nico has grabbed his hand and brought it up to his mouth, turning it over to place a kiss to Marti’s palm.

And each time he does so he meets Marti’s eyes, a piercing look rounded at the edges — they’re flecked with gold light from the street lamps; the sun has sunk hours ago. The cobblestones are relatively quiet on the weekday night. A person here or there. A stray car zipping down the street. Normally, they wouldn’t dare.

Marti feels Nico scratch the back of his hand with his pinky finger, swinging their now clasped hands dramatically back and forth before raising an eyebrow. “Do what?” He asks, although it’s pretty transparent he already knows.

“That,” Marti points out, then tries to mimic him. He kisses Nico’s palm, and it starts off sarcastic and sloppy. But Nico’s skin is warm and dry and smooth, fingers cupping around Marti’s cheek almost instinctively, and Marti just cannot kiss him derisively. Not when, essentially, he’s _literally_ melting into the palm of Nico’s hand. It turns earnest. And Marti has always been an earnest person — unable to be uncaring. Unable to turn callous. Especially to Nico. His face has always betrayed his true emotions; he feels his eyes turning into hearts.

“I don’t know if I want to tell you,” Nico admits, voice faint and eyes down. But he’s smiling — actually rather shyly. Which Marti notes is a little out of character for him. Rarely does Marti ever make him shy.

He squeezes Nico’s hand. “No, c’mon! You have to tell me now.” 

They stop walking forward, Nico backpedaling. Hands still intertwined. “Okay, follow me.” 

He drags Marti back under the arch they’ve just walked through — Porta Portese. Only not the main one, the little brick one to the side of it in the wall for the opposite flow of traffic. The voussoirs line up in stacks on either side of them, rounding at the top until they are standing directly under the arch in the middle of the road. 

Nico, again, brings Marti’s palm to his lips. Kisses it for a long time. So long Marti feels his face start to get soft and warm, feels it rise on command in a smile. And then, Nico takes Marti’s palm, the one he kissed, and puts in on his chest right over his heart.

Marti can feel it thud between every finger.

Nico keeps his palm pressed there, trapped between his chest and his hand. They share half laughs, and Marti knows his face is giving away how in love he is; he can sense his eyes grow giant and gentle — can feel his lips smush together tight in reflex before they part into a toothy grin.

Almost as if it’s hard to look away, Nico finally looks up. All the way up; his head bends all the way back, face parallel with the sky.

Marti follows his stare, the brick voussoirs getting smaller and smaller into the vanishing point of the arch above them. A big black break in the heavens.

“Do you know what that is?” Nico asks, a whisper.

Marti squints, then defaults to playful. “What what is?” He laughs. 

Nico squeezes his hand tighter in a giggle, and Marti can feel his chest bounce with it. “Up there,” he points.

“The arch?” Marti tilts his head as if to get a better look.

“It’s the keystone,” Nico clarifies, shoulders relaxing in an exhale. “At the top. That one bigger brick, there.” He tips his chin up, eyes fixed on it.

“Okay, sure,” Marti laughs. “What about it?”

“It locks all of the other stones of the arch into position,” Nico explains, his voice turning from soft to serious. He guides Marti’s hand down his chest, locks their fingers together, lets them dangle beside them now. “It’s the most important piece.”

Eyes down. Marti feels Nico looking at him. 

“Without it, everything would fall apart.”

God, he loves his mind. It’s impossible to read but it is beautiful. One of the most beautiful things Marti has ever had the pleasure to experience. The best part of the beauty is that it was realized.

Marti’s heart trembles. There’s a sadness in the back of Nico’s throat he can hear in his voice. He doesn’t have to spell out exactly what he means — why exactly he kisses Marti’s palm under every keystone.

Luckily, Marti is the master of deflecting.

“I took art history too, you know,” he smiles. “Do you want to know what I remember?”

“Okay,” Nico nods, and some optimism comes back into his expression. Marti squeezes his hand, and his smile grows.

“The keystone, actually, bears the less weight of all the stones.” He knows he sounds matter of fact, but that’s just the way he explains things.

“Does it?” Nico asks like he either knew already or like he was omitting the detail. His smile gives him away, though. Marti doesn’t know if he’s ever seen this expression before — thankful and happy and heavy.

“Yeah,” Marti breathes, Nico’s eyes on him almost too much to think straight. 

It’s funny, really, how Nico is trying to tell Marti he is the keystone in his life. (Desperately wanting him to know that without him, he might crumble; but that with him, he never wants to be a burden.)

When really, Nico is they keystone in his.

And that the keystone, no matter how important, is not and can never be the whole arch.

It’s hard to say all of that in a kiss. To reassure Nico that no sense of responsibility passes between them. To remind him that he is valid and so wonderful. To delicately tell him that Marti needs him too, just as much. If not more.

But Marti tries. So he takes Nico’s hand. And he kisses his palm.

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to me on [tumblr!](https://bisexualcaravaggio.tumblr.com/)


End file.
